


The Smoke Rises

by cxr



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4804616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxr/pseuds/cxr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The League of Shadows was originally going to target Singapore, not Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Smoke Rises

The League of Shadows intended to strike out against the rich capitalists in their urban strongholds. Singapore was a prime location for this purpose: the rich-poor gap had been slowly but steadily widening in the cosmopolitan metropolis, and the tiny island was easy to isolate.

The contractors of Da Shuai Construction Company were in the room, waiting. Bane had led them into believing that he was a mercenary interested in building an underground storage facility. The two main partners, "Da Ge" Johnny and "Shuai Ge" Steven, were waiting in the conference room when Bane arrived, flanked by Barsad and his men. 

Steven, the leaner of the two, cast a quick look at Bane before he spoke to Johnny."Inside also wear mask, so kiasi..."

Bane did not have to decipher the syntax to understand their apprehension. He was familiar with the horror his mask evoked; it was a tool he used to his advantage. Bane took this chance to move commandingly to the center of the room, making it apparent that he was the most imposing figure in the room. Barsad's eyes were like chips of ice as he cooly surveyed the situation. A hush fell over the assembled crowd.

Johnny had the kind of ruddy complexion and gruff countenance that suggested that he yelled at subordinates on a regular basis. Now, though, he wore an obsequious smile on his face that hid his horror well. "The haze is quite bad this time, right? I saw the pollutants index- PSI- cross a hundred points on the TV."

It seemed like a non sequitur until Johnny gestured at his face, as if the mask was nothing abnormal. Bane simply inclined his head, unused to replying questions about his mask without threats that involved grievous bodily harm.

Johnny's smile remained falsely bright as he spread out schematics on the table. "Regarding your request for storage, I think the best place would be these warehouses near the shipyard."

"I specified an underground facility," said Bane, voice filled with quiet menace. 

Johnny swallowed, his smile faltering. "Very little space underground." Johnny pointed at the top region of his schematic of Singapore's subterranean land use."A lot of underground carparks and shopping malls."

There was a significant amount of white space between the surface and the level of granite that was the absolute bottom. "Go deeper," Bane growled, pointing to the layer just beneath what Johnny had indicated.

"Those are the MRT lines, boss," said Johnny, his voice quaking slightly. Bane had that effect on people.

"Money is no object." Bane waved his hand in a magnanimous manner. He had ascertained that their apprehension had been due to mere incompetence, not deceit.

Johnny and Steven followed Bane's meaningful look to the lowest section of the diagram, before exchanging a glance, as though they were playing rock paper scissors to decide who would speak.

Steven swallowed, then spoke up. "That's the DTSS...the sewage tunnel."

Bane moved towards Johnny until he was forced to raise his chin to meet Bane's gaze, gulping as he did so.

Bane laid the back of his hand on Johnny's neck, placing the flat of his palm against Johnny's leaping pulse. "I do not tolerate failure."

*

After Bane had struck the fear of the League into Johnny and Steven, Barsad and he readied themselves for their next destination. Barsad familiarized himself with the smartphone he'd bought to blend in with the populace while Bane shed his heavy sheepskin coat. Concealing the tubes of Bane's mask with the upturned collar of his sheepskin coat and a scarf was not feasible in this climate. Bane was no stranger to the desert heat, but the humidity clung to every pore, a blanket of sticky, warm sweat. The fire was rising, indeed, in more ways than one. 

They reached the stadium in the evening. Their opening salvo had to take place at an event that would draw a large crowd and media coverage. A sports event was an ideal candidate. Bane could imagine the audience's screams of excitement turning into fear as the ground blew up, only for the League to emerge from the ruins and take control. Their national football team, Barsad had concluded, would be the greatest crowd attraction.

Bane stood with clasped hands, surveying the audience as the national team played a regional rival. "This is Singapore's top draw," he repeated, dryly.

"Go Ali!" called a handful of voices near the field. Bane and Barsad looked over at the family members screaming and waving shakers, and the vast number of empty rows behind them. The only other person near them was a Chinese man talking volubly into a mobile phone.

"Well, this is the game," said Barsad, frowning. He moved over easily to the man speaking into the phone.

"$50, score 1-1 at full-time, ok, ok..." the man said, scribbling into a small notebook with 555 on the cover. He looked up, noticing Barsad. "How much you want to bet?" 

After the bookie realized that they were not looking to bet, he began grumbling, half to himself and half at them. "This game almost got cancelled because of the haze, of course no one come lah!" 

It did not take much prompting for the bookie to talk about the crowds, or the lack of them. He bemoaned the loss of the good old days of Singapore football, when the human wave of Singaporeans swept through the stadium with such force it was known as the Kallang Wave. Barsad extricated himself from the situation while the bookie continued to rhapsodize over the goal record and acrobatics of the legendary striker Fandi Ahmad.

"There's always the National Day Parade," said Barsad as they walked past blocks of flats. His brow was furrowed as he scrolled through event listings on his phone. 

Bane frowned. Weak capitalists or no, it would be folly to pit the League against the country's military finest. However, this showed that these people could be drawn out by the right event. In fact, there was a long queue of people snaking past the shops. Many wore thin surgical masks, and some sniffed into their handkerchiefs in an ineffectual attempt to keep the haze out. 

Bane made a motion towards his trusty liutenant. This was their chance to find out what motivated these people. Barsad looked up, appraised the situation, and headed towards a middle-aged woman at the end of the queue.

"Eh, queue for what, ah?" asked Barsad.

"Aiyoh, boy, you cannot see meh?" she replied, removing the handkerchief from her mouth to gesture at the stretch of people. "The queue so long, sure worth it one!" Like sheep, thought Bane scathingly, as he and Barsad moved further up the line.

"McDonalds got limited edition free gift," the second person informed them. The gears began to spin in Bane's mind as he thought about orchestrating a similar giveaway. His men could easily be positioned along the street, and the neighbouring subway stations, spread around the head of the queue. 

"Here's your Singing Bone Hello Kitty. Enjoy your meal!" said the waitress chirpily, handing the black plush toy to a teenager at the head of the line who cheered and held it up high, nearly striking Bane's face as he dashed off.

*

The next hour found Bane and Barsad walking down Orchard Road, the haze scattering the street lights into a dull orange glow over the shopping district. The haze had taken its toll on the crowd size. Those who were present held handkerchiefs over their noses in a largely futile means of resistance. 

"The PSI just hit 250," muttered the mostly impassive Barsad as he looked down at his phone, wrinkling his nose.

The pedestrians gave them a wide berth- each would look at Bane, swallow, then edge to the far end of the street. Just as they would, thought Bane, when the plan of the League came to fruition. They would blow up the underground tunnels that criss-crossed under the surface and emerge from the shadows to terrify the decadent who had lived without the fear of retribution for so long. When that time came, these teenage scum would all would cower under his stare, rather than point and whisper at him with looks of...admiration?

"Excuse me," a teenager said, nervously, as he peeled off the thin surgical mask on his face. "Do you mind me asking where you got your mask?" 

"Yeah!" the teenager's friend chimed in, all youthful enthusiasm. "Your mask damn power man, like that confirm not scared of haze one!" Bane turned the full power of his gaze on the bright smiles, clouded slightly by the thickening haze. Bane could have snapped their necks with the exertion required to draw a deep breath, and perhaps they would one day meet such an end for their impertinence. Bane simply headed toward their next destination; he would not be their reckoning, not yet.

*

The MRT was crowded with people and their shopping bags, but Bane's powers of intimidation served him well. The young man sitting under the "seat reserved for the elderly and disabled" sign, who had seemingly been engrossed in texting, took one look at the broad stretch of Bane's shoulders, and promptly vacated his seat. Bane remained standing as a woman with streaks of white in a hair sank into the seat, placing her large shopping bag on her lap. 

She was wearing a white surgical mask with a yellow strap, but Bane recognized the crinkle of her eyes for the smile that it was. Bane's presence had contributed to her obtaining a seat, after all. A corner of his mouth lifted slightly in reply.

The woman pulled off the mask by the strap and took a few deep breaths. "Very hard to breathe through this," she said. Bane let the wheeze of his breath through the mask speak for him.

"Aiyoh, why your mask so many holes?"she said, frowning. "You don't know about PM2.5 meh? All you young people, only go for looks..." She then launched into a lengthy explanation about PM2.5-- which measured the concentration of microscopic particles that were potentially more harmful-- and how it differed from the PSI, which only accounted for larger particles. Bane looked at Barsad, only to find his head bowed over his smartphone, like every other commuter in the train.

"Only N95 mask can block out these particles." she gestured to the white surgical mask she was holding. "This haze not play play one, you know," she said disapprovingly, before reeling off the record-breaking heights the PSI had reached over the past few days. She kept talking even as the train pulled into the next station. "...But government only release 3 hour average, so better don't go outside like that even if the reading quite low." 

"Tell you what, just take this," she said. She removed another N95 mask from a box in her shopping bag and slipped the strap over Bane's fingers, before squeezing her way towards the open doors.

Barsad looked up from his phone and aimed an assessing look at the mask dangling from Bane's hand. "If you don't want the mask, can I have it?" Bane shot Barsad-- normally stoic, almost ascetic Barsad, the model soldier of the League of Shadows-- an incredulous look. "The masks are sold out across the country and the PSI just rose to 300." Barsad showed him the smartphone screen, a sheepish grin on his face.

Bane growled impatiently as he drew his fingers into a fist. Barsad's phone splintered to pieces under Bane's fingers.

Almost immediately, they were at the departure hall at Changi Airport. Barsad's fingers twitched on an imaginary keypad as Bane turned his gaze toward the rising planes, barely visible against the gray haze.

He believed in the cleansing fire, thought Bane as he regarded the smoke-shrouded airstrip imperiously, not this.

**Author's Note:**

> This assumes that TDKR is set about ten years in the future. At this point, the League is considering locations based on their ability to maximise the impact of their statement against the rich and corrupt, as compared to being about Talia's revenge.
> 
> Thanks to Siang Lin and Dan for comments.


End file.
